Some Enchanted Evening
by aquamarine-jo
Summary: Did your Mother ever tell you that you shouldn't talk to strange men?  This might be why!  A one-shot story of one very strange night out...


Did your Mother ever tell you that you shouldn't talk to strange men? This might be why...

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><p><strong>Some Enchanted Evening<strong>

It was good to get away from the rest of the group. It was very nice of them to invite me on Janine's hen night, after all I was the new girl, and I'd only been working with her for a week. Although if it had been any longer I would have known not to have accepted!

It had been a long night and to say that the group was raucous was like saying rain is wet! I had managed to 'lose' the comedy hen night badges, avoid wearing the wings and hadn't quite matched them drink for drink but I was still certainly on the happy side of tipsy. I had slipped away from them in the club when they all headed for the dance floor and found a stool at the quietest end of the bar, blessedly out of earshot of the shrieking.

I sound awful. I don't want to be mean, they were nice people and they had been only too pleased to include me but it was just not my sort of night. I'm not great in big loud groups. I should really have made my excuses after the final pub but had followed them into the waiting taxis like a sheep in stilettos and as I've paid to get in to the club I might as well stay for a while. People-watching is a hobby of mine so as long as I had a good vantage point and a drink I was quite content.

Now I had the chance to look around I realised that we weren't in the tatty, sticky-carpeted hen-night special but that this was actually a very nice club. The chill out bar I'd found was cosy and comfortable and the lighting was very flattering, or so it looked in the mirrors over the bar. There were the usual mix of customers – groups and couples and the odd solitary drinker like myself. It was quiet though, the high spirited were in the other bars or off cavorting to the deafening music in the main room.

I was having a lovely time with one of my favourite games – inventing lifestyles for the people I could see when I realised that a man was standing really close to me at the bar. Not so unusual except that there was plenty of space on his other side. He picked up his pint, turned round quickly and managed to spill a good amount of it on my thigh.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" He rummaged though his pockets and found a handkerchief – which was fairly clean – and started to mop my leg. I tried to swing my legs away, I had a skirt on that was a bit shorter than I thought it was in the shop and he was headed too far under the hem for my liking. Trouble was I was at the end of the bar and he was on my other side and there was nowhere to go. I pushed his hand away. That was a bit odd, his skin was really cold but I suppose it was just from the spilled cold beer.

"I can manage" I said, trying to sound as cold and unwelcoming as possible but he didn't take the hint. He put what remained of his pint down and struck out a hand.

"I'm Seth" he said, with a broad (and slightly insane grin) "and you're gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?"

"No thank you." I was polite but he'd managed to stand in a way that I couldn't move and as I had my back to the bar I had no choice but to look at him. He was quite young, probably cute (if you like that sort of thing) with his cropped hair and wide eyes but there was just something in his face that wasn't right. He had on a black suit and looked rather like a trainee undertaker. A mad trainee undertaker...

I smiled at the thought and he took encouragement from that and carried on babbling about something or other. I wasn't really listening but when he put his hand back on my thigh I pushed him hard in the chest. This was getting silly, and anyway, if he really was an undertaker I didn't want to think about where that hand had been. I had used my full strength to try and make a point but he hadn't moved, not one little bit. It was as if he hadn't even noticed and his grin was starting to get a bit manic. I wasn't quite scared but I was beginning to wonder if I should be. I was also waiting to see - and not with any pleasant sense of anticipation - what he was going to grab next.

So now what? I uncrossed my legs thinking I could make a run for it if I needed to, which had the additional benefit of dislodging that creeping cold hand but I wasn't quick enough to get up before he moved. He managed to push himself in front of me, between my knees and put both hands on my waist. Ignoring my horrified face he leaned in closer and started nuzzling my neck.

Eewww...

I was just working out a plan which included screaming and poking him in the eye (a knee in the balls was impossible from this angle...) when he disappeared as if he'd been dragged backwards. It was so sudden I was left in the most glamorous position, legs akimbo, mouth open to shout and a cold damp patch somewhere below my left ear. Lovely.

As I rearranged myself into a slightly more decorous position – or at least one in which my gusset remained a secret between myself and M&S – I could see a smaller man remonstrating with my clammy friend. I couldn't hear all of the words but got enough to get the point.

"...can't take you anywhere... over excited... showing us up..."

Poor Seth looked like a kicked puppy dog – oh no, I thought; now I was feeling sorry for him! The other man took him by the arm and marched him to a table in the opposite corner where a third man was already sitting in the shadows. Seth sat down obediently and the other man pushed a glass over to him.

"Please accept my apologies for my impetuous friend." My rescuer had crept up beside me without me seeing him. "Will you allow me to replenish your drink? I feel it is the very least I can do."

He was already calling over the barman and before I could protest a bottle of champagne had arrived. Well, if I have a weakness it's champagne so... what would you have done?

"How very rude of me, we haven't been introduced. My name is Herrick and I'm sorry to say that Seth is with me. He's young and gets a little carried away when he meets a beautiful woman."

It was all terribly corny but I somehow I found myself telling Herrick my name and asking him to join me. He looked over my shoulder to the bar and seemed to see something that concerned him – I looked round to see what it was but there didn't look to be anything odd.

"I do so hate perching" he said, taking me by the arm and helping me off the high stool. "Let's be a little more comfortable"

He led me over to a booth and as we sat the barman brought over the champagne, a level of service I thought had gone forever! As Herrick refilled our glasses I got a chance to look at him. Medium height, fair hair thinning a bit – not someone you would necessarily look twice at but the twinkle in his blue eyes was very attractive and his old world charm was a treat! He was good company too and as we chatted he made me laugh a lot. He was a policeman and his stories about the scurrilous misdeeds of local celebrities were fascinating. In what seemed like no time the bottle was empty. Without realising it I had been edging closer to Herrick, something about this man was very attractive, and I had no idea quite what it could be. He made me laugh but there was more than that, some kind of magnetism. He lifted a hand and gestured at the barman.

"We should have another bottle. I don't normally but you are so fascinating, I want to hear more about you." I felt a warm glow at being found so interesting (admittedly the champagne helped a bit!) and when the next bottle arrived and our glasses were filled I was quite content to find Herrick's arm around my shoulders. OK he was a bit older than my usual type (and quite a lot shorter) but he was sophisticated and charming (and generous) and I was having an unexpectedly good time.

We talked and talked; he was curious about my family and wasn't thrown find out that I had none at all. He took my hand and squeezed it in sympathy and it felt right that he didn't let go. His understanding of my contented but admittedly lonely life was refreshing compared to the usual gushing or embarrassed silences when I tried to explain it to anyone. He confided that he had no family left alive either and it made me feel he really understood.

Herrick poured the last of the champagne into my glass and I realised how much I'd drunk. Most of the two bottles and so it was no wonder I was feeling a bit fuzzy and was leaning over! It was lucky Herrick was such a reassuring presence holding me close to him; otherwise I might have made a total fool of myself. As it was his quiet calm let me feel very safe. I reached out for my glass, no point in wasting good champagne, but misjudged the distance and managed to knock them both over, the thin glass smashing on the table top.

I felt a sting on my wrist, I must have cut myself but before I could look at the damage Herrick had caught my hand.

"I'm such a clumsy cow..." I muttered, well, I think that's what I said, the champagne might have garbled the words a little but Herrick seemed not to notice.

"You're hurt." He frowned at my wrist, still captive in his capable looking hand. "Let me make it better"

He lifted my hand and gently kissed the back of it before turning it over to see a tiny cut on my wrist. He lifted it to his mouth and I felt him lick away the blood. He looked up at me and I leaned further towards him as he smiled. There was a sharp pain in my wrist – the cut must have been deeper than I thought – and then the strangest of sensations. It felt as though I was drifting, floating almost and as I watched Herrick it was as if he was a million miles away. For the briefest moment our eyes met and it almost seemed as if his were completely black. I shook my head, trying to clear it - that really was good champagne! Herrick raised his head and reached into his pocket for a perfectly pressed handkerchief which he wrapped carefully round my wrist. As I watched two small spots of blood seeped through the cloth and the drifting sensation started to subside a little.

"I had no idea so many men still carried handkerchiefs." I was flustered, it wasn't a great conversational gambit but it was all I could think of to say. It felt as though my mind had been wiped clean of everything that mattered and all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep, preferably in the safety of Herrick's arms.

"I always like to be prepared" he replied, smiling sweetly at me. "Your wrist is going to be quite sore but it will heal in time. However, I do think you may have had a little too much champagne!"

I couldn't really argue with that, and smiled back at him, ready to agree with everything he said.

"Let's get you home and tucked up in bed." He took my arm and helped me up, my legs weren't quite behaving themselves and I still felt light headed. This wasn't like being drunk, it was different somehow but it didn't seem that important to work out why. Herrick started to guide me across to the door and we walked past the table where mad Seth was still sitting looking sulky.

"Bye bye Seth!" I happily called over to him and Herrick's arm tightened on mine and he hissed at me.

"Be quiet. Do try to behave." His voice was suddenly cold and while I didn't like it much I had to concede he might have a point. I wouldn't normally shout across a bar, especially at a man who had tried to grab me but I did feel very strange. I needed to concentrate.

Herrick tried to hurry me past but short of carrying me (and I wouldn't have put it past him) I could only go so quickly. High heels, short skirt and copious amounts of champagne don't make for swift departures!

As Herrick urged me toward the door I saw the third man sitting in the shadows beyond Seth get up and he walked over to stand in front of us. Herrick didn't look pleased to see him but I do admit that I was more impressed. Herrick was very charming but this one was much more my type! Tall and dark, with messy curly hair and a lean body in black jeans and leather jacket. Although when I looked down the skinny jeans were tucked into black boots – oh dear, just a bit too try hard I thought and giggled. Both men looked at me and I put my hand over my mouth. Great first impression I was making!

"What exactly are you up to Herrick?" he asked. He had an Irish accent – it almost made up for the boots.

"Ah, Mitchell. How kind of you to be concerned but I'm just making sure this young lady gets home safely. Nothing at all for you to worry about."

"But Herrick, I do worry" Mitchell replied. "I would hate it if you got carried away."

Herrick laughed but there was no humour in the sound and he dropped my arm as he stepped closer to Mitchell.

"I told you that this does not concern you."

I wobbled a bit without his support and sat down rather suddenly in a chair that was luckily nearby. I was feeling a bit left out – the two men were facing each other, neither wanting to give way and I wasn't sure if they were fighting over me or something else entirely. Oh, whatever... I wasn't going to hang around waiting for them to make up their minds.

"Right" I got back up, just a little unsteady, and gathered up my dignity and my handbag. "If you two are going to see who can pee highest up the wall then I'm not hanging around to watch. I'll get a taxi."

I turned to go but my planned sweeping exit came apart at the seams when I caught my heel on the chair and almost fell, only Mitchell's quick response catching me and keeping me off the floor. Well done girl; that was even more impressive than the giggling!

Mitchell kept hold of my arm and I may have exaggerated my unsteadiness by leaning against him so he didn't have much choice but to hang on to me to keep me roughly upright.

"Herrick is right, for once. I think it would be best if we got you home." He called over his shoulder "Seth! Go get the car." Seth scuttled off immediately as Mitchell looked at Herrick whose face was like stone; he clearly had no time for Mitchell's interference. "We should all go; Herrick gets a little frisky if he isn't watched."

He let go of my arm and bent over to pick up my handbag which I had dropped. Luckily it had stayed shut; that would have been the death knell of any faint hope of looking sophisticated if I'd had to collect all the embarrassing contents from around their feet! I reached out to take it and he noticed the makeshift bandage on my wrist.

"What have you done?" He started to unwrap it, carefully peeling the linen away from the wounds.

"Oh, nothing much, just a broken glass. Herrick took care of me." It did look a bit strange, not like a glass cut and I wondered how I had managed to make two such neat symmetrical holes in the skin. Mitchell put the handkerchief back round my wrist, not nearly as neatly as Herrick had done and looked straight into Herrick's wary eyes.

"Herrick looked after you, did he? I can see that he did."

Something passed between the two men, a look I couldn't interpret. They stared silently at each other until Herrick shrugged. Although Mitchell seemed the dominant one Herrick had a quiet, calm authority that made me wonder just what he was.

Herrick took my arm, pulling me close and I felt a ghost of that piercing pain in my wrist and that strange floating feeling overcame me again.

"Come. Even Seth will have remembered where he parked the car by now."

We left, Herrick and I arm in arm with Mitchell close behind us, lighting up a cigarette as soon as we were outside. Seth had found the car, it was a big shiny black car – you can tell I'm an expert on these things! – and there was plenty of room for the three of us to sit in the back. I was sandwiched between Mitchell and Herrick, and this was all starting to feel a little unreal. The fresh air had taken the edge off the effects of the champagne and for a moment I started to wonder just what was I doing? Sat in a car with three men I didn't know, at least one of whom seemed to be quite mad and the other two engaged in some sort of disagreement. I shifted in my seat, trying to see out, to see exactly where we were and Herrick sensed my disquiet. He took my hand, stroking it, and murmuring soothing words to me and I felt myself drift again, why was I worrying? I was quite safe.

Mitchell was staring out of the open window; chain smoking but he couldn't have seemed less important, he might as well not have been there at all. All I could hear was Herrick's soothing voice. In what seemed to be no time I realised we were outside my flat, I must have told Herrick my address at some point that was lost to me.

Herrick helped me out of the car and up the steps to the main entrance to the block, with Mitchell close behind.

"I think I can manage to make sure she is home safe." Herrick's voice was firm but Mitchell just grinned at him and carried on following.

"I'm quite sure you can manage but I'd like to be sure that she is safe too."

My flat was on the ground floor, luckily, as I wasn't sure I would make it up the stairs and while the thought of being thrown over Mitchell's shoulder had some attractions the chances of retaining any of my remaining shreds of dignity was remote. I managed to find my key, unlocked the door and headed in, dropping my jacket on the hall floor and my handbag on the table, the contents scattering. Looking round I could see that Herrick and Mitchell were still hovering in the doorway.

"For goodness sake just come in, I'll put the kettle on." I intended to go to the kitchen but when I got to the living room Herrick was beside me and he stopped me. He switched on just one lamp leaving the room dim and shadowy and closed the curtains

"Mitchell, I'm sure you can manage to make us all some coffee. I could certainly do with a cup."

That strange look passed between them again and I could almost think they were speaking somehow, just not in any way I could hear. Mitchell disappeared into the kitchen and I could hear the water run and cupboards opening and closing. I walked over to the fireplace, there was a mirror above the mantelpiece and I smoothed back my hair and wiped away some smudges of eye make up. I looked pale and as I put my hand to my hair I realised my wrist had started bleeding again, soaking through the handkerchief. I started to unwrap it and saw that the wounds were oozing fresh blood and without thinking I licked them clean. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and arms came around my waist and spun me round. It was Herrick; I'd been looking in the mirror but hadn't seen him behind me.

He kept one arm tight around my waist and with the other hand lifted my wrist looking at the blood with fascination. He looked up at me and I realised that his eyes were completely black. That couldn't be possible. I tried to pull away but he had me held so tight that I couldn't move and could hardly breathe and I closed my eyes as he brought his mouth to my throat.

I felt his teeth on my skin and then the sharpness as he bit me, biting deep into my neck and then that same drifting feeling I had felt earlier. I could feel myself going limp in his arms as he drained me of my will, my blood flowing into his mouth and my life floating away.

After what seemed like an eternity he laid my body on the floor. I couldn't move and my vision was hazy – was I dead? What were these people? I heard him moving, talking to Mitchell. I strained to hear the words but they were so very far away. Mitchell's voice came closer and I heard Herrick say.

"You know I will always leave some for you. Which is more than I can say for you, you never share, no manners at all. Anyway, there she is, you know you want it. Go on... finish her off"

"I can't." Mitchell's reply sounded tortured but he was closer now, kneeling beside me and picking me up.

"Of course you can" Herrick replied. "And you must."

His tone was firm, not to be ignored and Mitchell obeyed, his mouth found the wounds that Herrick had left and I felt him start to draw out the last of my blood. My eyes were still open but all I could see was darkness and I knew that this was the end.

I drifted through that darkness forever, floating on waves of weariness until I felt my body shaking and some faint traces of awareness returning. Mitchell had his hands on my shoulders and was shaking me, shouting at me to wake up.

"Herrick's gone and you must listen to me. It can't be too late – you have to listen to me! You have to drink"

I had no idea what he meant and I didn't care, it meant nothing in my darkness but I realised that warm liquid was dripping into my mouth and some of my strength was returning. I swallowed and felt a rush of joyful, ecstatic sensation and I had to have more. I reached out and grabbed the arm that was over my mouth and bit into it, my teeth felt odd, sharp, and I sucked hungrily on the blood until I was exhausted.

I heard Mitchell groan in pain as he pulled his arm away from me, putting his other hand over the deep tears in his flesh that I had made in my desperation to get at his blood.

"Thank god" he murmured "I couldn't bear to lose another one."

The darkness started to come back but this time I wasn't scared. Something new was happening to me, something powerful, something good...

... and it felt so nice!


End file.
